THE SNOWMAN
On its head a stetson cowboy hat
Around its neck a muffler red near it a willow bat
Round and round it we played ring a ring a roses
Danced and pirouetted and struck many poses
Two luminescent marbles eyed the cold world
Which in swathes and swathes of white uncurled
Those were the times when to be alive was very heaven
Ah I must have been eight or maybe seven
Mom's warm smile dispelling the cold
As she stood in a shawl embroidered in threads of gold.
Frank Sintra singing away with gusto
let it snow , let it snow.
Two branches stuck as arms in the snowy stump
Ah in my throat did I just feel a lump?
The camaraderie and rambunctious fun
Everything fallen to time wanton
Dad standing under the walnut tree, beaming away
Ignorant of the monster at his vitals eating away.
Rhapsodising about the times gone by
Embellished with sigh upon sigh.
"I have swum the Wullar lake you know.
In freezing winter months, no, not in snow."
Somewhere in his body skulked a vicious lump
Ah, in my throat did I just feel a lump?
With a box camera, as stumpy as our snowman
We clicked pictures and around the snowman ran
After a fortnight of rest, the sun was up and about.
I shrieked " where is the snowman's snout?"
From the snowman's face the red leather ball
Had an ignominious fall
Ah that was wicked.
I saw my brother chasing it
As it slithered toward the thicket
And was back with its kith in the kit of cricket.
"How's that?"
The budding cricketers shouted
"Will I not be allowed to bat?
Am I too small for that?
Am I fit only for fielding,
To your threats I am not yielding."
The six year old ran away with a stump
In anger wild , two tiny eyes were red.
A flying missile hit my head.
Ouch , on my head was that a thump?
In my throat did I just feel a lump?
It was gone with the first glimpse of a sunny dawn.
On the snow lay the muffler carmine.
Which in those golden days was mine.
I picked up the stetson and into the house ran
Conceding to Sinatra's pleas , it snowed and snowed.
Proud of the cadences in his voice dad recited Poe
While Sinatra beseeched the snow
Let it snow, let it snow.
Chunks of memory against my head did bump
Ah, in my throat did I just feel a lump?
Around its neck a muffler red near it a willow bat
Round and round it we played ring a ring a roses
Danced and pirouetted and struck many poses
Two luminescent marbles eyed the cold world
Which in swathes and swathes of white uncurled
Those were the times when to be alive was very heaven
Ah I must have been eight or maybe seven
Mom's warm smile dispelling the cold
As she stood in a shawl embroidered in threads of gold.
Frank Sintra singing away with gusto
let it snow , let it snow.
Two branches stuck as arms in the snowy stump
Ah in my throat did I just feel a lump?
The camaraderie and rambunctious fun
Everything fallen to time wanton
Dad standing under the walnut tree, beaming away
Ignorant of the monster at his vitals eating away.
Rhapsodising about the times gone by
Embellished with sigh upon sigh.
"I have swum the Wullar lake you know.
In freezing winter months, no, not in snow."
Somewhere in his body skulked a vicious lump
Ah, in my throat did I just feel a lump?
With a box camera, as stumpy as our snowman
We clicked pictures and around the snowman ran
After a fortnight of rest, the sun was up and about.
I shrieked " where is the snowman's snout?"
From the snowman's face the red leather ball
Had an ignominious fall
Ah that was wicked.
I saw my brother chasing it
As it slithered toward the thicket
And was back with its kith in the kit of cricket.
"How's that?"
The budding cricketers shouted
"Will I not be allowed to bat?
Am I too small for that?
Am I fit only for fielding,
To your threats I am not yielding."
The six year old ran away with a stump
In anger wild , two tiny eyes were red.
A flying missile hit my head.
Ouch , on my head was that a thump?
In my throat did I just feel a lump?
It was gone with the first glimpse of a sunny dawn.
On the snow lay the muffler carmine.
Which in those golden days was mine.
I picked up the stetson and into the house ran
Conceding to Sinatra's pleas , it snowed and snowed.
Proud of the cadences in his voice dad recited Poe
While Sinatra beseeched the snow
Let it snow, let it snow.
Chunks of memory against my head did bump
Ah, in my throat did I just feel a lump?
We are indeed blessed -The wonderful memories of childhood bring mist in the eyes and lump in the throat.
ReplyDeleteThose who can look back to events such as this are indeed blessed but, as in the poem, tragedy awaits sometimes. Thanks, Santosh!
ReplyDeleteI love how you captured the effervescent emotions of childhood in the concrete image of the snowman. Great job using a universal symbol everyone can relate to, and I like how you tied in the loss of your father and captured your feelings in these acts you shared with him, it is such a poignant piece to have the knowledge of his death and to pull the looming danger into the remembering of your special childhood times. So moving.
ReplyDelete